The Death of the Universe: Ghost Kingdom: Hard Science Fiction (Big Rip Book 2)

by Brandon Q Morris

  “I’m Pierre,” the last of the Arbiters introduced himself. “Nice to have you here. Now tell us your story. Twice.”

  Ramona and Paola clapped.

  When he told them about the imminent flood, they were no longer clapping. They’d closed their eyes as though they were asleep.

  Pierre leaned toward him. The flames didn’t affect him. “They’re contemplating your words,” said Pierre. “Can you tell?”

  “They’re asleep,” said Kepler.

  “Maybe that, too.”

  “When will you decide?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  Cycle IK 4.5, Terra

  “I want to speak with the six Arbiters,” said Kepler, before the uniform in the glass cubicle could ask him anything.

  The man gestured behind him. Kepler hurried past him into the waiting room. He sat on the far end of the sofa. Then he tore a hole in the blue upholstery.

  Six people were sitting around a fire, and he was sitting in it. Who had told him the names of the six Arbiters? He knew all of them. But Kepler couldn’t remember having spoken with Zhenyi about them. Had the butler once mentioned the Arbiters?

  Pierre leaned toward him. “That’s an exciting story you’ve got there. Beings made of dark energy, woohoo, that’s genuine horror.”

  “It’s not a story, it’s the truth, but I haven’t even told you yet.”

  “I thought it might be. You know, we specialize in the truth.”

  Yes, he knew. That was why they needed the capabilities of these legendary AIs who dated back to ancient human times. Kepler told his story. But he didn’t manage to persuade even one of the Arbiters.

  They would decide tomorrow.

  Cycle IK 7.6, Terra

  “Hey, Pierre,” said Ramona. “How much longer are you going to let this poor sucker keep appearing in front of us?”

  “As long as it keeps being fun.”

  “I don’t know. It’s starting to get old. At least you could change the soup.”

  “From eight to ten, that’s my time, no one’s allowed to butt in, not even you, Ramona.”

  “Oh, stop it.”

  “Stop what?”

  “Acting like I’m somehow special to you.”

  “You are special.”

  “It’s been eight gigacycles.”

  “To me it seems like yesterday.”

  “You like living in the past.”

  “Yes, and that’s why this Kepler is going to keep showing up in the fire for a few more gigacycles. If you like, I could change it to a barbecue.”

  “Leave it alone, Pierre.”

  “To the six Arbiters,” said Kepler, “and make it quick!”

  Since that morning he’d been experiencing a sense of urgency. Something had happened, far away at the Gigadyson. There was no way he could know, but he sensed it.

  “Please take a seat in the...” said the uniformed man, but Kepler had already gone past him.

  Kepler stood still at the entrance to the waiting room. Someone had ripped the upholstery at the end of the sofa. Were there vandals everywhere? He sat down on the damaged side. While he was waiting to be summoned, he compulsively made the hole bigger with his fingers. He couldn’t help himself.

  Kepler woke up in a campfire. It had almost burned down. Two men and two women were sitting around the fire, staring at him. Two other people, Ramona and Paola he realized, were lying on their backs, snoring.

  He told his story. It didn’t seem to interest the Arbiters. John Lennon kept yawning, and Michael was scratching his privates.

  At the end they announced they’d decide in the morning. He didn’t get his hopes up. That meant nothing. And yet he had the feeling he’d see the six of them again. That was life. You always saw each other twice.

  “Good night,” said Pierre with a grin.

  “Good night,” Kepler said, grinning back.

  Cycle IN 2.8, Terra

  Whenever Kepler coughed his chest ached. Had anyone ever caught a cold traveling via laser pulse? His calf muscles were burning, because he’d already been sitting cross-legged for two hours, telling his story. He was sitting in the middle of a campfire. A strange idea on the part of the Arbiters, but he had to humor them if he wanted to persuade them.

  That didn’t seem to be an easy task, but he couldn’t give up. The AIs were sitting around the fire in human form, but they didn’t seem to be interested in what he was talking about. Did they really care so little about humanity? Many gigacycles ago there had been a kind of war, but since then relations had eased somewhat. The humans had pledged to stop constructing AIs above level 10, and to enforce that, the Arbiters had overwritten the supercomputer on the moon. And they’d promised never to leave Terra again.

  Raindrops were falling on Kepler’s head. He noticed that Pierre was watching him. He seemed to be the only one here who was the slightest bit interested in him. He disliked the name, but he couldn’t let himself be influenced by that. He wiped a few drops from his forehead. They fizzled in the fire. Everything felt real. He could smell the burning wood and sense the warm ashes under his legs, although he couldn’t feel the heat of the fire. How did an AI come up with the idea of meeting in a virtual environment like this? Why didn’t they just communicate in a mathematical matrix? He was only made of code anyway—information. Maybe every consciousness, even an artificial one, yearned for a sense of reality?

  “Carry on, Kepler,” Pierre encouraged him.

  The others were talking amongst themselves.

  “I don’t know where I was up to.”

  “Then start again from the beginning. We have time, lots of time, much more than you think.” Pierre smiled broadly, displaying two rows of big white teeth.

  “No, we don’t,” he said. “I have to get back tomorrow.”

  “Are you contradicting me? That’s not a good idea. I thought you wanted something from us?”

  “Yes. But it’s extremely urgent.”

  “I promise that by the time the fire has burned down we’ll come to a decision.”

  A constant stream of water ran down Kepler’s cheeks. His hair was drenched. The rain was getting heavier by the minute. Pierre finally seemed to have noticed it. The AI shuffled closer to the fire. Pierre leaned forward and blew on the flames, which briefly flared up. But the fire was getting steadily weaker.

  Pierre tapped Ramona and whispered something in her ear. She immediately broke off the conversation with John Lennon. Something was happening. The AIs seemed to be whispering secretively about it. Soon they were all sitting around the fire and blowing on the flames or throwing twigs into it.

  “What’s going on?” asked Kepler.

  “The fire, it—” said Ramona.

  “Nothing. Tell us about your problem,” Pierre interrupted.

  Kepler held his hand above his eyes. The rain was getting heavier. It was almost as though someone was tipping a bucket of water over him. The six Arbiters sitting around the fire remained dry. But they looked unsettled. It got dark. Suddenly Pierre stood up, moved away from the fire, and came back with a canister. He removed the lid, turned the canister upside down, and poured a brown liquid onto the fire. A few flames shot up, but only briefly, and then the rain doused everything.

  The fire went out. None of the six Arbiters said anything else. They kept looking up at the sky, as though they were expecting someone to appear there. The ash under Kepler’s legs quickly cooled. He felt a chill. While the fire had been burning it had been more comfortable. But at least Pierre would now have to keep his promise.

  A lightning bolt shot down from the sky, hitting the ground nearby. Kepler had no time to count, because the thunder followed immediately. A gust of wind blew ash into his face. He clenched his teeth. There was grit between them.

  A man emerged out of the darkness. The first thing Kepler noticed was his long hair. The man was wearing a brown trench coat and held a large hammer in his hand. “Hello people,” he said.

  The voice sounded familia
r to Kepler, but he couldn’t place it. The Arbiters moved a little to the side, but made no effort to stand up.

  “Thor, what an entrance,” said Pierre.

  “So, you’re showing your face again?” Ramona remarked.

  This must be the seventh Arbiter. He’d obviously named himself after Thor, the ancient Norse god of thunder. In any case, he seemed to like making dramatic entrances.

  “I’m quite disappointed in all of you,” said Thor. “We have a guest, and this is how you treat him?”

  “He’s fine,” said Pierre. “He’s sitting in the warmth—well, until you made it rain—and telling us why he’s here.”

  “And how many times has he done that? What is going on, Pierre? This is a human consciousness, you don’t mess with that.”

  “I already tried to appeal to his conscience, Thor,” said Ramona.

  “This is my time. I can do what I want with it. No one gets to meddle. And it’s funny, don’t you think?” Pierre said as he looked around the circle. The others lowered their gazes. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that. The man didn’t even notice. I reset him properly every evening. Look at him. He’s got no idea what we’re talking about.”

  Kepler stood up and brushed the ash from his clothes. He really didn’t know what the newcomer was talking about. But his words rang true. If it was really the case, if this Pierre had let him sit in the fire multiple times, then he hadn’t arrived yesterday—it might have been a week already. That meant he had to hurry! Zhenyi was waiting for him!

  “How long has this been going on?” he asked.

  No one answered. Thor gave Pierre a steely look, but he didn’t react.

  “Out with it, how many times have I sat here and described the catastrophe that’s threatening the universe?”

  The weird things he’d noticed today gradually started to make sense. How had he known where the waiting room was? How had he known the names of the six Arbiters before they’d introduced themselves? And why were the AIs so disinterested, even bored? Because this wasn’t the first time he’d shown up here. Pierre must have overestimated his abilities. To reset a human consciousness, so thoroughly that no trace remained, was apparently more complicated than Pierre thought.

  “Ramona, you tell me,” he addressed the female AI directly.

  She dodged the question. “You don’t want to know.”

  “He has a right to this information,” said Thor. “Do I have to drag it out of you?”

  Pierre raised his hands, as though in protest, then let them fall again. “It was only meant to be a harmless prank,” he said. “You can’t claim it caused you any suffering, Kepler!”

  “No suffering? I’ve been here for a week, or maybe longer, and that’s a whole week in which the future of humanity is unnecessarily hanging in the balance!”

  “It can’t be that urgent,” said Pierre.

  Kepler was screaming now. “It is!”

  “Then you won’t like the answer.”

  “Let me decide.”

  “If you insist. You’ve been here for a good 10 kilocycles.”

  Kepler clutched his chest. It ached, even though he wasn’t in a real body. “Ten thousand years? Are you serious? I’ve been sitting around here uselessly for over ten thousand years?”

  It was incomprehensible. He could have been back long ago. What had happened to Zhenyi? Did the Gigadyson still exist? The explosion, if there had been one, wouldn’t be visible from Terra yet. But when? Kepler had no choice. He had no information about the current situation, but he still had to try to fulfill his mission. He had to convince one of the Arbiters to accompany him back to Zhenyi.

  “It wasn’t useless. We had a lot of fun,” said Pierre.

  You scumbag! Kepler leapt forward a couple of feet and punched him in the guts. He noticed Pierre tensing his muscles, presumably preparing to hit back, but he couldn’t.

  “Let me go, Thor!” cried Pierre. “This gnat dares to hit an Arbiter! I have the right to punish him! He attacked me first.”

  Kepler raised his fist again. The newcomer, whom everyone was calling Thor, was standing a few meters behind Pierre and beckoning Kepler. Have another go, he seemed to be saying. But Kepler couldn’t be bothered. He had more important things to do.

  “I need someone to accompany me,” he said. “You’ve obviously all heard the story thousands of times. Now you owe me an answer.”

  Hopefully Pierre wouldn’t be the first to respond. But if there was no one else? “Well?”

  The Arbiters remained silent, their eyes on the ground.

  “It affects you, too. No quantum computer will work once the spatial distances become too large.”

  “We pledged never to leave the Terra system,” said John Lennon.

  “This is an exceptional situation. No one would object to you rescuing the world,” Kepler argued.

  “That’s not how it sounded in your story, though,” said Ramon. “Didn’t you say you’re considered enemies of the Convention? Who’s to say that it won’t stay that way? We would be forfeiting our peaceful existence here if we helped you.”

  “That’s just an excuse. You’re all cowards!”

  “Maybe,” said Ramona. “But what’s Thor, then? Your friend? He violated the treaty gigacycles ago. And now he comes here to appeal to our consciences.”

  The newcomer had violated the treaty between the Arbiters and humanity? Then maybe he was the right one for the job. At least he didn’t seem to be as fearful.

  “Thor? I’m Johannes Kepler. We don’t know each other. But I’d like to ask you to listen to my story and help humanity defend itself against a serious danger.”

  Thor came closer and stood directly in front of him. The seventh Arbiter was much bigger than himself. His torso was bare and he was wearing a kilt, which didn’t match his name at all. He smelled a bit sweaty. None of this is real, Kepler reminded himself. Thor is an artificial intelligence, an ancient one, and he gave himself this form because he found it entertaining. But he did seem to be more powerful than the others. Would he have been able to prevent Pierre from returning the punch otherwise? And the rain that had extinguished the fire appeared to be Thor’s doing.

  “I know you, Kepler, and I trust you.”

  Kepler looked up at him. That voice! It seemed familiar. Some encounter in his past? Clearly Thor didn’t comply with the ban and had left the Terra system many times, so a prior encounter wasn’t impossible.

  “Can you help me? We need an up-to-date calculation of the manipulations of the Gigadyson, so that its destruction will release its energy in the right direction.”

  “I think I can do that.”

  “We’ll have to travel there together.”

  Thor smiled. “I had assumed so.”

  He snapped his fingers and they were standing in the reception area he had arrived at in that morning. No, many years ago. He still couldn’t come to terms with the fact that the six AIs had robbed him of so many years. He could have spent them with Zhenyi! How was she? She was probably waiting desperately for him to return with an Arbiter. And he was finally on his way to her, even though he’d never have managed it without Thor’s help.

  They went past the uniformed man who was about to say something, but Thor held his finger in front of his lips and the man remained silent. Behind the control station was the destination router. Kepler had to remind himself they were still in a virtual reality. Nothing he could see was real. Everything should actually have been calibrated according to the desires of the AIs. But he was still seeing structures conceived by humans. Could it be because that was exactly what he expected, and he wasn’t capable of seeing anything else?

  Would a fish think it was in the sea here? Or were the Arbiter AIs—created by humans so long ago—so similar to their creators that their minds worked in a similar fashion? Had humans created them in their own image? He’d have to ask Thor. The seventh Arbiter was different from the other AIs. He didn’t seem so haughty. But first they had to tac
kle the task that lay ahead.

  They came to a stop. Thor tilted his head first to the left then to the right. All at once they found themselves under a dome full of stars. “The universe,” he said.

  “Are we searching for our destination?” Kepler asked. “I can give you the last coordinates of the Aterae’s spaceship.”

  “Yes, that’s our destination. But Zhenyi has already transferred the coordinates to me.”

  The picture changed, as though they were racing faster than the speed of light through the universe. Kepler felt sick. Then he saw a flashing light close to the surface of the Gigadyson. “That must be a control station,” said Kepler.

  He expected Thor to query him about it, but the Arbiter just nodded. He was obviously already well informed. “Then we should get moving,” said Thor.

  Kepler gave him the thumbs up. The dome disappeared. He was alone. Then he ceased to exist.

  Cycle IO 6.3, Gigadyson

  “There are eighty-nine ships,” said K.

  Zhenyi looked at the screen. K didn’t need to show her what he meant. She recognized the flashing dots, too. They’d dispersed themselves like a swarm of mosquitos around their ship, which was in a tight orbit around the gravastar.

  The swarm was closing in. Their adversaries must have located them from a great distance. It was no wonder, because the gravastar gave away its position with its immense mass, even if it wasn’t illuminated. An unidentified object near the Gigadyson would draw attention. The fact that it hadn’t been discovered earlier was simply because no one had been seriously looking for it. They’d initially suspected petty thieves were helping themselves to the Gigadyson’s reserves. But since Zhenyi’s involuntary visit to the Mario, their adversaries now knew the whole story.